


All the Wrong Reasons

by Nebulad



Series: Whiskey Molotov [2]
Category: Fallout 4
Genre: "In Sheep's Clothing" Spoilers, Angst, End Game Spoilers, F/M, Fluff, MQ Spoilers, Railroad Spoilers, post-game spoilers
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-11-23
Updated: 2015-11-23
Packaged: 2018-05-03 01:51:59
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,790
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5272145
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Nebulad/pseuds/Nebulad
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>- CONTAINS ENDGAME AND POST-ENDGAME SPOILERS -</p><p>They approached the gates and Audrey frowned, stopping cold. “Danny isn’t here,” she said, scooting over to the guard’s usual spot.</p><p>“Lunch break?” Hancock suggested.</p><p>“Wouldn’t he have a replacement?” she asked, walking around his area like she was gunna find something.</p><p>“Guy probably just ducked out for a beer or something. There’s still guards out here, don’t worry about it,” he urged her. He was half afraid she would find something- that was her luck, that her first trip to Diamond City would involve some sort of fucking conspiracy.</p>
            </blockquote>





	All the Wrong Reasons

Audrey wasn’t happy after the Institute went up in flames, and it didn’t sit right with Hancock. That Shaun asshole was mighty lucky he’d been fucking incinerated, because there were very few things in the whole fucked up world that messed him up worse than that sad, faraway look she slipped into, like she didn’t even care about anything anymore, and Hancock _knew_ it was because of her kid.

Things had been better and worse in turn. She’d lost the originalShaun, and worse yet lost him by double crossing him. That’d been fucked up, how they’d encouraged her to work with him for so goddamn long and then told her to kill him. It wasn’t right, but she’d done it because she bled compassion and Shaun’s seemed to have dried up.

It’d been rough, but he hadn’t been able to stop the flood of relief. Even though he _knew_ she was upset- she was crying on and off for _days_ afterwards like she couldn’t control it- she was _alive._ The whole goddamn op had been enough to take a great big chunk out of his considerable life expectancy, waiting _days_ for her to get back from _the fucking Institute,_ not knowing if she was okay or if they’d somehow found her out and killed her.

All that effort falling in love with her and it’d be just his luck that she’d be killed where he couldn’t bite it right next to her.

But she’d come back, in pieces. The crying had abated a little in the past few weeks _(thank fuck)_ , but she was still dancing around his questions like a pro. Shaun- the synth Shaun that she’d barely let out of her sight for days- also seemed to make things a little better. She never turned the kid away, at least, which Hancock had been expecting for some reason. He supposed that she didn’t really associate sixty year old Shaun with his ten year old replica, which would make it easier to have the boy around even when she couldn’t stop crying.

Shaun was a regular little devil, though, and in the end it was _him_ who came up with the clever plan to get Audrey to leave the Red Rocket for a while. Hancock liked the kid a lot more than he’d expected to when they’d picked him up on their way out. He figured it’d be sort of uncanny and make Audrey uncomfortable anyways, but Shaun was as real as it got.

“Mr. Hancock?” Audrey was sleeping on the highest floor addition to the Rocket, and wasn’t expected to wake up for hours yet. She’d been getting up later and later and it worried Hancock so bad that he was waking up earlier and earlier.

“Just Hancock’s fine, kid. What’s up?” he asked, gesturing to the chair next to him. Shaun climbed into it and sat with his feet hanging off the edge- the original Shaun must have _really_ been invested in his own adorability because no kid was actually that cute.

“Mom’s been really sad lately,” he began, and Hancock gave him credit for not beating around the bush. He tended to appreciate the trait more in mobsters and petty criminals, but kids worked too. “I think she needs to leave for a little while.”

“What makes you say that?” No use making the kid think it was his fault.

“I dunno. She was happier wandering around and helping people- now she just hangs around here and doesn’t do anything.” It was frustrating Shaun, obviously, and he got this look on his face that was so much like Audrey that Hancock remembered all over again that this was actually her _kid-_ or like, a really good clone of him anyway.

“She doesn’t wanna leave you here by yourself,” Hancock said with a shrug. “Give her some time.”

“I could ask her to leave.”

“And break your mother’s heart? Cold, little man.”

“ _No,_ Mr. Hancock.” _That_ time he called him mister on purpose and the little shit was so much like Audrey like he was a little worried that the _Mr. Hancock_ thing would catch on. “I mean I can ask her to leave, but to go get something for me.”

“Like what?”

“I’m good at building stuff. I could ask her to find me parts,” he said.

“You underestimate the amount of crap your mother carries around at all times.”

“She isn’t looking right now. We could scrap it all for parts,” Shaun suggested, and Hancock turned to face him properly. “She won’t be up for a long time and loud noises don’t bother her. I tested with the siren the other day.” Hancock remembered that- no one had known what had set the siren off, and Cait had teased her for sleeping through the entire ordeal.

“Well then, we better get to work. Is Nick still around?” he asked, standing up.

“Yep! And Codsworth and Cait want to help too,” Shaun said.

“I’m the last person you asked?”

“Mr. Deacon told me that you always save the enemy’s closest friend for last,” Shaun said solemnly, and Hancock shook his head and started towards the stairs. Audrey left her bag by the power armour which was conveniently located by the workshop- with Nick, Codsworth, and Cait, plus him and Shaun, they had a good chance of being done before she even blinked her eyes open.

. . . . .

“You want an alarm clock?” Audrey blinked a few times, sitting up in bed. Shaun had woken her up to ask for an alarm clock, with Hancock sitting nearby in the easy chair on the… porch-ish thing.

“Yeah! I think I can build you something really cool with it- please?”

“Like what?” She wasn’t saying no, but her brain was fritzing out this early. She’d been up all night contemplating the fact that she’d left her son sick and dying to be vaporized-

“I dunno yet, but I will if I get one. _Pl-ea-se?”_ She nodded her head, tugging at her short cropped hair the same dirt blonde as her son’s.

“Hancock knows where my bag is, sweetheart, I probably already have one.”

“Sorry sunshine, all we got on us is scrap.” So he _was_ listening. “He already asked me, and we’re clean out.” Her heart swelled a little because she’d been afraid that Shaun had fucked with little Shaun’s program, or that being raised and built in the Institute gave him some sort of natural disgust for Ghouls. So far, though, Shaun seemed to treat Hancock as an extension of herself.

She rubbed her eyes and put her arms around the boy, snuggling him for a second. He wriggled impatiently but allowed the imposition, and Hancock stood up to lean on the doorframe. “Yer next,” she warned him, peppering kisses all over Shaun.

“ _Mom.”_

“I’ll take it from here, kid.” Hancock plopped himself down at the end of the bed and she rolled so she could lean against him. She didn’t let go of Shaun.

“Joke’s on you, I’m a _great_ multitasker,” she said, leaning up to kiss Hancock’s jaw.

“Mom, the clock?” Shaun reminded her.

“Yeah, I’ll get you a clock baby. I’ll have to leave for a few days,” she told him, and was surprised when he nodded- and hurt. Just a little bit hurt.

“I’ll miss you,” he said, which soothed her a little.

“I’ll miss you too,” she told him, then looked over at Hancock. “Ready to hit the road, babe?” she asked.

“Just say the word,” he reminded her, and she felt a little bit more normal than she had since the war.

. . . . .

“You think Myrna will have one?” Audrey asked, and Hancock shrugged. “We could try Daisy first.” He’d normally jump at the opportunity to get back to Goodneighbor and make sure nobody was touching his stuff while Audrey shot the shit with Daisy, but he was worried about overwhelming her. It was the first time they’d been back in Boston since she’d shambled out of Railroad HQ with Shaun in tow, and he just wanted her to get used to it again in degrees.

“We can stop in Diamond City first- it’s closer, anyway,” he said, toying idly with the knife she’d given him. It was starting to get colder, so he put it on his mental to-do list to remind her to get to Fallon’s and try to scav for a jacket. She was still in her Railroad jumpsuit, and Tinker Tom had mentioned being able to add some thermal protection to the ballistics but the Railroad would have to come later.

They approached the gates and Audrey frowned, stopping cold. “Danny isn’t here,” she said, scooting over to the guard’s usual spot.

“Lunch break?” Hancock suggested.

“Wouldn’t he have a replacement?” she asked, walking around his area like she was gunna find something.

“Guy probably just ducked out for a beer or something. There’s still guards out here, don’t worry about it,” he urged her. He was half afraid she _would_ find something- that was _her_ luck, that her first trip to Diamond City would involve some sort of fucking conspiracy.

“It just seems weird,” she said, moving back to lean against his side. He put his arm around her to guide her to the gate.

“Weird shit happens,” he assured her, bringing them up into sunny Diamonds City. “Not everything is a huge dea-”

Danny Sullivan was sitting in a pool of his own blood, supported by Father Gabe and being fussed at by several residents. Audrey scrambled away from him to go see what was wrong with the kid, only to be dismissed. “Go get Dr. Sun if you want to help,” the priest barked, gesturing towards the Mega Surgery. It was all Hancock could do to keep up when she took off, almost tumbling down the stairs in her rush.

“Danny Sullivan got shot!” she shouted into the basement where Sun was working. The doctor’s head snapped up and he fired off into the market, almost running Hancock over. _Of course._ It had to be the one day that he’d wanted Audrey to just relax and be outside for a while that everyone in Diamond City lost their fucking minds.

He stood behind her while she crouched anxiously at Sullivan’s side, offering up stimpaks if the doctor needed them to work. Danny was brought back to coherence, although he still needed to be stitched up. “What _happened?”_ Audrey demanded.

“McDonough is a synth. Piper was right- he’s barricaded himself in his office with Geneva-”

Danny kept talking but Hancock couldn’t hear him.

He felt numb all over, like he’d got rammed by a Radscorpion or knocked over the head by a Mutie. Audrey said something and stood up- and she was his anchor to this whole damn world, so he followed her when she moved even though he couldn’t process anything. _Move, just move, just follow._

The main elevator wasn’t working, so they ran back out of the city around to the second one. It was still functional, but it was a long fucking ride. Hancock felt uncomfortably sober as they waited. “I’m sorry,” she ventured quietly.

He didn’t say anything, leaning against the back of the elevator and trying to focus on the hum and vibration all the way through his body. After an uncomfortable amount of time having passed after offering her condolences, Hancock blurted “He isn’t, right? A synth, he can’t be one.”

“I don’t know,” she admitted.

“I’d _know_ if they replaced my brother,” he insisted. She nodded but he could read on her face that she wasn’t sure. He remembered telling her specifically that he didn’t buy that he’d been replaced by the Institute.

Hancock was over McDonough- he’d stopped using the last name, dropped John into hell where he belonged, and started fresh as some drugged up chemhead… and then again as a drugged up chemhead that was so in love it sort of made his chest hurt sometimes (hopefully that was the love, anyway). He didn’t think his brother could still affect him like this. He should have known- he remembered lingering in the corners of his office while Audrey had begged the key to Kellog’s house from the guy, more hurt than he’d felt in a _long_ time that McDonough didn’t even look at him.

They were brothers, and that meant something to Hancock- to _John,_ even if he wished it didn’t. He was supposed to _know_ this sort of shit- Goodneighbor had been rebuilt on the sacred oath to _know_ your buddy so you’d _know_ if they got replaced. What kind of person was he that he’d bailed out of his own family so fucking hard that he hadn’t noticed his big brother get abducted?

The elevator dinged and anxiety spiked through Hancock so hard that his shaking hands were grasping for jet before he realized they were moving. He yanked them back down to his sides- he had to be lucid for this, he had to _remember_ this and he had to make McDonough remember too.

Piper was kicking at the door violently, but Audrey had learned a good lesson from Nick Valentine- always look under the desk for the secret button that opened the doors. They swung wide and McDonough was holding a gun to his secretary’s head, and then to Audrey. That made him… nervous. More than nervous- Audrey could dodge a shot like a pro, but it was usually a Raider that Hancock wasn’t worried about blasting to pieces.

“ _You._ There’s no Institute for me left to go to now and I will _not_ be discarded like trash,” he spat. Audrey put up her hands and Hancock looked her over for where she was hiding the knife. He didn’t see it and that was making his blood scream for jet- maybe he’d need the psycho, though, to just get it over with and blast his brother to pieces.

If it even was his brother.

“I can’t help you if you don’t put the gun down, sir,” Audrey said calmly, looking at the mayor with heavy lidded eyes. _Where’s your knife, sunshine?_ His trigger finger itched.

“I’ll put the gun down if I walk. I’m Courser material and I can make it out of the city and away,” he insisted, and that tore it right there didn’t it? Straight from the brahmin’s mouth, another failure making Hancock’s- John’s skin crawl, that his brother had bit it so long ago and he’d spent all these years _hating_ him for no fucking reason.

“Where you gunna go, man?” she asked, shaking her head and taking a step towards him. _Not without your knife, sweetness, don’t go to a fight empty handed._

“Away. It doesn’t matter,” McDonough spat.

“I’m not lettin’ you walk after you tried killing a kid for no reason,” she said. “You’re gunna get tried like any other piece of shit that hurts people.” _That isn’t what we do to scum out in the Ruins,_ he thought. They got blasted- Raiders got blasted and Gunners got blasted and they kept a kill count and bought a drink for the highest number...

It occurred to him that maybe she was doing this for him.

_Then it’ll be your fault when he walks._

His mouth felt too dry, suddenly, like when he went too long without _something_ to ease off his nerves. He had bad nerves ever since the Ghouls had been banished, ever since he’d watched all those civilians get torn out of their homes and thrown into the Ruins. He’d been using chems before that, but… it hadn’t been a _thing_ before getting to Goodneighbor and realizing that he didn’t have a family to disappoint anymore. No more John McDonough, who just stood by and watched people die.

Then the drifter got cracked open on the pavement and he’d been dumbass John all over again.

“You think I’m gunna sit in that pen? In this town, where you get _shot_ when people even suspect that you’re a synth?” McDonough raised his gun.

_Not this time._

Hancock pulled the trigger and the bullet hit home with a spray of blood and viscera, and for a second his guts flew into his mouth because _guts and blood were human he’d been human all along he was human and John had shot his brother-_

Piper gasped aloud, then scrambled over to the body. She knew where to check, evidently, and pulled out the proof- a synth component, like all the good bots had. “Jeez, Blue,” she said, looking up helplessly at Audrey. “Don’t think I’ve ever been so upset about being right before.”

Audrey was staring forward in mild shock, blood sticking to the dirt on her face. She turned to Hancock, who lowered his gun. Confirmation that the fucker had been a synth wasn’t doing much for his stomach- _shit_ , he felt…

“Hancock?” Audrey asked.

“They replaced him after all,” he said with what he hoped passed for a careless shrug. “Hated the guy all that time for the wrong reason.” And that was it. He looked towards the elevator while Piper talked about a new mayor, and waited impatiently for Audrey to get done.

They took the regular way down, and Hancock didn’t even notice himself slip his arms around her from behind to jam his hands in her pockets. He was shaking a little- it was getting cold and he remembered the jacket thing- but Audrey didn’t say nothing. She leaned back and he kissed up her neck, trying to tease. She laughed, but it sounded all breathless and tense.

Myrna didn’t even have an alarm clock on her when they went.

. . . . .

He laid out on their great big mattress bed, his coat and various shirts tossed _somewhere_ and his hat over his eyes. The jet had kicked in a little while ago- or maybe a long time ago, who fucking knew on jet?- and he was considering shooting some Med-X once the first high wore off. Jet never lasted _real_ long, even less time in combat.

He heard the door open and Audrey walk in, climbing the stairs with more muscle memory than light to go by. She put some stuff down on the table next to the bed, then sat down and ran her hand against his stomach. He exhaled shortly to let her know that he was alive. “You take something?” she asked, her hand rising to his shoulder.

“Jet,” he answered hoarsely. He didn’t really like the high at that moment- it was just slowing stuff down enough that his brain had time to work. Psycho would have been better but he was _tired._

“You gotta eat, sweetie,” she scolded him, and he sat up, squinting in the dim light.

“I’m good,” he told her, leaning over to plant a kiss on her cheek.

“No you ain’t- you don’t got a lot to waste away, Hancock. Just eat, please.” He really was all right, he thought, but accepted the noodle bowl without argument. He could petname her into just about anything, but when she got that tone of voice going like she actually cared if he lived or died, it struck something deep enough in him that he’d do what she asked. “How you doing?” she asked.

“Look, if you wanna talk about McDonough, don’t worry about it,” he assured her, his confidence growing with every word. “He was a synth and you saw what Goodneighbor does to replacement synths.”

“I saw what Goodneighbor does to replacement synths that aren’t related to you,” she said. He paused, but only for a second. “It’s all right if you ain’t okay with what happened.”

“I pulled the trigger,” he said with a shrug. He always felt gangly without his jacket on.

“That doesn’t mean everything’s okay,” she protested. He smiled at her. “Neither does that,” she said, kissing him anyway. He exhaled a little, feeling the jet start to wane. It was a hell of a drug, but he’d long since built up a tolerance for it. Skeeto Spit would have been better still and probably help with the sick feeling inside of him, but it was a bitch to get your hands on and there wasn’t a chemstation in Home Base.

“It isn’t a big deal,” he assured her. It _wasn’t_ \- he didn’t want it to be because he wasn’t John anymore. He didn’t have to be John if he didn’t want to be, and with her, Hancock had done so much good for people who needed him.

“I ain’t gunna press you about it,” she said, gesturing openly. “I’m just here in case it isn’t okay.”

“It’s okay,” he insisted.

“Okay.” She grinned and he gestured for her to get closer to him. In the absence of drugs that would have any respectable effect on him, he found that she sometimes worked just as well.

. . . . .

Daisy had an alarm clock for them and they returned to the Red Rocket after a week. It’d been longer than Hancock had wanted to be out- fuck, especially after McDonough- but all in all, Audrey was looking a bit better. The whole trip hadn’t been a waste, and Shaun did actually set to building something from the clock.

Audrey was playing with Dogmeat and Hancock watched the kid tinker away at the junk. It occurred to him that this Shaun wasn’t the real one- he was a replacement of the old one, the one who’d broke his mother’s heart a thousand times over. Audrey had always been upfront with the little guy- she explained everything to him, about synths and about Shaun and everything- but she didn’t love him any less.

Hancock tried to remember when he’d stopped loving his brother, trying to decide if it’d been before or after he’d become the mayor.

“I was right,” Shaun said smugly, not looking up from the pieces of the clock. “She’s happier now.”

“You were right,” Hancock agreed.

“She told me what happened with the mayor,” he said.

“Yeah?”

“Do you not like synths?” he asked. Hancock snorted a little- that was the question, wasn’t it? Guilt roiled around in his gut because he hated the fact that he’d killed his brother, but it hadn’t been his brother. Did Hancock feel bad about popping a synth?

“They’re just people, I guess. I can’t like or hate all of them at once,” he said with a shrug.

“Do you like me?” Shaun asked, still not looking up.

“Yeah, I like you kid.” No matter what he felt about McDonough and synth McDonough, that was true enough- hell, maybe he’d even remember it when it got dark and he got sober and it stopped being okay for a while.

 

**Author's Note:**

> so this quest hancock only says one throwaway line which okay, I get it. Don't wanna feel obligated to have Hancock along on an otherwise unremarkable sidequest. but also consider this: I love pain and suffering. also if you're here you either weren't afraid of engame spoilers, or you have played till the end. lemme just say, Shaun is an angel.


End file.
